Chapter 14

Rain

It's still raining and I don't want to go home yet. The thought of going back to that empty place was a bit too much to deal with for now.

So I just stand in the rain outside the club and people knock into me and make mumbled excuses and rush by trying not to get too wet. I should maybe move out of the way, but that feels like too much effort now…everything feels like too much.

It will be a long walk….but I don't want to get a cab again….and I've been told I should exercise my leg…and I should put a small amount of strain on my chest…to help it repair quicker and to remind it that it has a job to do…and so I turn and start to walk towards the outskirts of the city.

…………………….I can see…I know…really I do understand why people turn to drugs and drink…and to sex…and maybe even what drives a lot of people to violence and suicide and I don't want that person to be me….I don't want to become a statistic again, but I can feel the lure and I am hoping …really hoping that I am doing the right thing this time. I don't know if I could handle another rejection. Not that Dark and Blonde rejected me…far from it…they just used me and that is as bad. Even though I was using them in return….it makes me the scum filth Floyd always said I was….even as a child.

After an hour I am regretting my choice of action. My leg hurts as though the bullet has only just ripped its way through me…and my shoulder is throbbing…and every breath is a reminder of what happened….I push my soggy hair off my face and I can feel small lumps under my scalp where the glass was stuck…and my fingers move to where the bullet ripped at my face and cracked my cheek bone….but that is mostly healed now…It doesn't hurt…except it would seem – on cold wet evenings when I am too tired to carry on.

There is a park off to my right which offers me a short cut to my destination, and although normally I wouldn't go near the place in the evening, tonight I will…

I walk out into the road and jump back with a yelp as a car honks at me and rushes by in the rain through a puddle….It covers me…what small part of me not already soaked now is but there really is nothing I can do about it now…I can smell the dirt and oil from the road on my skin now…and the rain just keeps on coming down.

I make sure there are no more cars going to run me down and walk over the road to the park…it's a slow walk…my leg is sending shots of agony through my hip and back…and my chest feels like it might explode.

There is lighting in the park…only along the main walkway though…so this is the route I take…

………A bench……a small wooden bench…..I stand and just look at it for a while…and then sit. The relief is instantaneous. The weight no longer on my leg means that the other pains stop….I lean forward and take in deep measured breaths…trying to control the pain still tearing through me.

And for some strange reason I have the urge, the need, to smoke…to smell that smell which most non smokers hate, but I love…as long as it is smoke coming from the right person and for the right reasons. Now that my chest has stopped hurting so much I sit up and lean back slightly on the bench….I let the rain wash the dirt off my face and I can feel it trickling down my neck and through the thin cotton of my shirt and running in small rivers down my chest.

…………I need to sleep, or maybe just lay down and close my eyes….and think…think if I am doing the right thing. I thought I was with Derek…but look where that got me…I thought I was by going to the club…but that was wrong too….maybe this is also.

It doesn't really matter that it's raining…that it's cold…I can't get wetter than I already am…and so I slide sideways and pull my knees in tight and wrap my arms around me and close my eyes.

-o-o-o-

I've been sleeping on the couch. Not because I can't be bothered to go to bed… but because I just sit here until sleep overtakes me. I don't know how long I've been sleeping for….but the sudden noise makes me jump and I kick the coffee table in front of me calling out a slight curse. I sit and wait for the noise again…It may have just been in my sleep…I'm not sure…either way I will get up and get a coffee…I'm awake now…no point in trying to sleep again for a while now.

…………someone is definitely knocking on my door….so I get up and pull my housecoat around me and finger brush my hair and tip the dregs of cold coffee into my mouth…And the knocking again…A bit louder this time.

I walk quickly to the door and glance at the clock on the way through…It's nearly five in the morning. I check the door camera and at first I don't recognise who it is…I am about to walk away when he looks directly up at the camera.

"Spencer?"

He looks dreadful. He is obviously very wet and shivering and standing on my front porch. I can't ignore this and attempt to sleep even if I wanted to.

I pull back the bolts and switch off the alarm and open the door.

"Reid? What on earth?"

"May I come in?" Arms are wrapped tightly around him and there is watered down blood on his chin and around his nose.

I step back for him and pull the door wide open. "What happened to you?" I watch as he limps in and stands dripping in the hall. Quickly I lock up again and reset the alarm. "Spencer?"

"I needed to talk to you."

I nod and don't know what to say…there is so much I need to ask, and need to say to him and now he is here and I don't know if I can.

"Do you want a warm shower? Some dry clothes?" And he nods.

"That will be good. Thank you." But he doesn't move.

"You are bleeding." And I want so desperately to move my hand over and wipe it from his face…to touch him…to have contact with him…but I can't. I mustn't.

"Oh…sorry." And he wipes at his face with his shaking fingers.

I can see the pinkness of his skin and the way his nipples are pressing against the fabric of his almost transparent shirt….I can see how something has run down the front of it only to get washed away in the rain…He's been bleeding a lot.

And that worries me.

Even though I know it is alright…Spencer's blood worries me.

"I'll get you some sweat pants and tshirt….you know where the shower is."

And he nods and stays still.

Quickly I grab some navy sweatpants and a red tshirt from the 'needs to be ironed' pile and walk back to him….he is still standing where I left him.

"Reid. Do you need me to help you?" And very slowly he turns his face to look at me.

"Whatever it was…whatever it – it was…I'm s sorry." His voice isn't much more of a whisper, but I don't know what it is he is apologising for. Too much has happened…Too much has gone on for me to guess which one of the things he thinks is his fault. I put a cautious hand out and rest it on his shoulder.

"Come with me Spencer. You need to warm up." And he nods.

I walk behind him as he turns and walks to the bathroom and as he enters and slowly starts to un-do his buttons I suddenly don't know what to do, and I always know what to do…this is new…this isn't a situation I have been trained to cover. I watch as he peels his shirt off so slowly and I don't know if it is for my benefit of if he is in pain. As the shirt falls to the floor I see red marks across his back…Boot imprints on his skin…in places the flesh is grazed and has been bleeding…and again I want to reach out…I want to try to make this better for him…but by being here…just be being here in my own home I am making things worse. I shouldn't have let him in. I should have left him there…in the rain…and cold….I could never have done that.

I decide that instead of watching him slowly undress I will get the water ready for him…so I place the dry clothes on a shelf and turn on the shower. "There is soap and shampoo." And I turn around to see him sitting on the floor trying to remove his cords. I can see on his chest the mark left from the spike which had sliced into him…and it makes me feel sick thinking back to that day down in that hole…thinking how he was dying…

………………….but he is here and something has happened. "Who hit you?" And his hand goes to his face.

"I'm fine Hotch…just cold."

And he is lying…I can tell…he may be a genius but small lies like that are too obvious with him…I let it go…I want him to stop shaking…I want that wheezing sound his chest is making to stop…I want ….I want to touch those marks on his body and for him to confide in me.

Finally he kicks off his pants and sits on the floor holding them close to him…I am trying so hard not to look at him…he looks so frail and vulnerable. I walk by him and reach out to brush my hand over the top of his head, but pull back just in time…I don't want to initiate anything…I need to talk to him first. I need to say what I need to say to him…and ask what I need to ask.

"I'll be in the kitchen making fresh coffee. Take your time." And I close the door behind me putting up that barrier which probably should have always been there and with a deep breath I walk to my kitchen.

I don't need to make fresh coffee…but I tip away what is left and make more anyway. It give my mind and hands something to do….occupy them – take my mind off what is in by bathroom….and the temptation to walk back in…and watch…Just watch…That is all I want to do….I sit on the high stool at my kitchen counter and rest my head on the work surface. Why does life have to be so damned complicated. If Haley had stuck around it would be so much easier….not that Spencer would have come here in the early hours soaking wet and bleeding if Haley had been here.

I rest and listen to the coffee machine and take in the homely aroma and think back on times when life seemed 'easy'.

"Hotch."

I sit up and look over at him…part of me was hoping for the towel to be around his waist and part of me was dreading it. He is dressed though. "Coffee?" I ask indicating the machine.

"Thank you." And he is just standing in the door way looking at me.

So I pour him a drink and add a lot of sugar and stir it with vigour and when I look back he has gone. My stomach does a turn of panic. Where the hell is he?

………………It's OK…he is in the lounge …..just standing….doing nothing….his hands by his side and he is looking at the photo's of Jack on the wall.

"Your coffee." I hold it out to him and notice my hands are shaking and I think it's because I have so much to ask this person and I don't know where to start. I don't want to cause more damage. I put it down on the table. "Reid – I'm glad you came by." Though I'm not. "The timing is a bit odd though. Sit. Drink the coffee and tell me what's wrong." I need to keep total control here.

I watch him sit down in big over stuffed chair and he crosses his legs and then wraps his arms around him and just looks at me.

"Did you want to talk?" I try again…and he shakes his head.

"I had a feeling you needed to talk to me." His voice is croaky and tired.

Great…he knows something is wrong.

"Reid…back…back when the UnSub had you in the pit." Reid nods at me. "He said some things which I still need to confirm." I watch him pick up his coffee and blow on the surface….he's stopped looking at me. "We had to go to your apartment. Prentiss and I…and well…Are you…have you been co habiting with another man?" And I know he has…The test results back from the lab confirmed that much. I watch him carefully and see his fingers tighten around the mug.

"I I c cant see that is you business." He talks into his drink but he is shaking worse than when he arrived.

"The gay community is known to be promiscuous Spencer. I need to know that you are healthy." I said the wrong thing….The way he suddenly stood up and dropped his mug to the floor told me that….the way his mouth opened to say something then snapped shut then opened again.

"I came her because I thought…I thought you would understand." He is walking away.

"I didn't say I didn't understand Reid. I want you to confide in me."

He doesn't even turn around. "NO! No you want to know if I go around behaving irresponsibly. You want to know how many partners I've had."

His hand is reaching for the door. "The UnSub thought you had given him something Spencer." And his hand freezes.

"I'm clean." He whispers it. "I didn't infect him."

I nod and move closer. "I know, but I need you to stay safe Spencer."

…………….I turn off the alarm and watch him pull the door open. "Then find Floyd Flanders for me." And he has gone…barefoot back out into the rain…and I want to call him back…but I know I shouldn't so I just close the door on him and turn off the light and pick the blue vase up off the hall table and throw it at the wall.

-o-o-o-

I'm allowed fresh air today. They take me down to the exercise yard and I stand in the rain and look up at the sky. No one else is here…the others are always somewhere else…they keep me away from them…I don't know why.

Morris is with me. Morris is with me a lot now…he talks to me and tries to give me something…some kind of reason…but he won't answer my questions…but today I look up at the sky and wonder if Spencer is doing the same.

"M Morris…" I turn to look at him and he smiles back…and that smile is forced sometimes and sometimes natural…today it just looks wet. "D did you find out about Spencer?" And he is shaking his head.

"You need to give me more to go on Frankie…there is no record of a Spencer."

So I sigh and nod and turn around again….this cool early evening air is wonderful. I love the feeling of the rain on my face. "Do you have a sm smoke?" And fuck me if I haven't started this stupid damned stutter thing….

Morris passes me a smoke and he has a box of matches. He lights one and holds it to the end of the cigarette as I inhale it deeply…and images flash in my mind and I can see him…tall and skinny and beautiful…and naked….and I can taste something sweet in my mouth…and I want him suddenly so badly that I start to shake….and my nose starts to bleed. I keep smoking with my back to Morris and try to think…Spencer….who the hell were you? Did I kill you? Is that why I'm here.

"Did I kill him? Did I kill Spencer?" And I think I said it aloud.

"The only people we know about have been in law enforcement or security."

……………………and I see his standing there in funny cords and a shirt which is too big for him…and a gun at his belt and a Fed ID……… "I think I killed him." I mutter…and Morris hands me a fresh Smoke….

"Why do you think that Frankie?" And he's not smiling now.

"Because he was a Fed."

And I think back…I try so hard to think back and wonder about this Spencer person…I was screwing a Federal Agent? That seems wrong…that seems so damned wrong…but I know…when I close my eyes that the person I can see…and smell and almost feel…was that love? A kinship at least…more than that…a bonding…

………………no more than that too……………

and I drop the butt to the ground… "So you can find out where the Fed called Spencer is buried…if you can…will you take me to him?"

because I have a plan…and that plan is to get out of here….and to do that I have to instil some trust in them….and I cant do that if I am doing what I want to do.

I can smell Morris from here…I can smell the blood under his skin…I can hear his heart thumping in his chest and I want to rip him open and devour his life force then fuck his corpse… but for now…just for now…I will behave.

…………..as I walk back out of the rain and into the building…the others are around….and they stare at me like I am a monster and I really want to kill them all…I want to taste their blood in my mouth and feel it running over my skin….I want to rip the flesh off their backs and smoke it slowly and make things out of it….dolls…I want to make dolls…..

"Morris."

He looks at me as I enter my cell. "Yes Frankie." He sounds tired.

"If I can't see his grave…if I can't do that…can you at least let me go to a church…I mean a real one…not the chapel here." I have a plan…so vile and wondrous it is making me feel faint…so I sit down quickly on my bed with the paper sheets.

"I will see what I can do."

And the door is closed and locked and I really wanted to ask him to blow me… but I relieve myself…while I lay back and plot my escape.